Revenge Of The Light
by Superpasta
Summary: An old enemy of the Titans is out of jail and scheming his revenge.
1. Chapter 1

Standing on the gravely shore, he listened to the waves churn restlessly on their sharp stony bed. The sky was agitated, wind blowing and tearing at the dark heavy clouds but failing to provoke them to rain. Far out over the dark harbor of Jump City his eyes affixed to a silhouette in the fading light of evening. On a small desolate island stood erect a mighty tower, tall, stark, defiant, and constructed in the shape of a capital "T", the Teen Titans home base. How arrogant! How insanely arrogant! They were spitting in the face of practical architecture just to feed they're ravenous egos a little more, where the entire city could see. Those high and mighty bastards! Those intolerable children! They had ruined his reputation, his pride, his life. His hands were tightening in balls of rage, but he forced his pale nimble fingers to relax. He took a deep breath. Patience, he must remember to have patience.

He was a tall thin man, dark-eyed and sharp tempered, and he had a backpack uncomfortably heavy over one shoulder. He glanced at the dim digital blue glow of his wristwatch. The bus would be pulling up to the stop in about fifteen minutes. Enough of his brooding on the beach, he needed to get home so the real work could begin. Heading up the path back to the road, the gravel crunched under his heavy boot with each step. His hood was pulled tightly over his head concealing most of his face. Choosing out a secluded seat on the bus, he pressed his face up against the glass and watched the dim streets roll by. With each mile the bus traveled the buildings outside became more decrepit and rundown. They were approaching the rough part of town where he lived.

The bus pulled up to the curb and stopped with a tired hiss, the flimsy doors swung open and he stepped off onto the sidewalk. The buses diesel engine rumbled down the street and faded into the distance, leaving behind only the pungent smell of its foul expulsions. The sun was setting. He hurried down the street at a fast and nervous pace. His gaze shifted from side to side uncomfortably. When he saw a police officer ahead he began to cross the street but stopped and visibly fought the urge. Instead, with heart hammering he made his way not-too-slow not-too-fast right by the officer receiving not so much as a glance of acknowledgement. Relief washed over him as he breathed deeply again. He came to an apartment building. It was now dark outside as he entered the somberly decaying interior. He made his way up to the third floor.

His small apartment came with a fireplace, which was a surprising luxury considering the price he was paying for this place. He had used it when he had first arrived to burn the bright orange jumpsuit that had been his prison uniform, thus destroying all evidence of his former life. He would have tossed it immediately after getting hold of civilian clothes but it had been the middle of winter when he had busted out of that hell hole, so he had elected to wear them underneath as an extra layer of warmth. That daring escape had been nearly six months ago, and since then he had been hiding among the masses. Indignantly he had assumed the role of a minimum wage peon, working his fingers to the bone for the meager scrapings that kept this roof over his head. Not much longer would he have to endure this, for the preparations he was making in the little spare room were nearly complete. He stood before the door where his beloved project was locked away. Pushing his reading glasses up his crooked nose he turned the knob and pushed it open.

The room was strewn and scattered with every light fixture known to man. Chandeliers suspended from the ceiling swung as he slammed the door behind him. Christmas lights climbing like strangle vines on the posts of floor lamps along one wall. A bright blinding mass of desk lamps were huddling on a table crouching in the corner, underneath which power strips like planters nourished an admirable collection of night lights. Fixtures of the wall-mounted variety sprang from every available gap like sprouts clamoring for the sun. He called this wonderful place the light cave. He lifted the backpack onto the desk with metal clank. How patiently, he thought rubbing his hands together gleefully, how carefully and diligently he had been working, preparing to take his revenge on those little twerps who had locked him away. He unzipped the backpack and emptied it out. Various tools and gizmos either stolen or purchased spilled forth. Oh yes, he thought with elation, those little twerps, the Teen Titans would pay dearly! For he was no ordinary criminal on the lamb from the law, he was a supervillain, the nefarious Dr. Light! A genius, and very possible the greatest mind of his time, all that remained was to prove it.


	2. Chapter 2

Summer blew in on the breeze through the open window along with the sounds of the sea. A loud snoring hog was slumped on the sofa, comfortable in the warmth of his sunbeam and in the smell of sea salt drifting by his big round snout. He wouldn't have been distinguishable from any other pig except for the fact that from the tip of his nose to the end of his curly tail he was green as fresh cut grass. One of his hammy little legs twitched in his sleep, it seemed he was enjoying his dream. The room he was in was nothing short of marvelous in architecture. Shaped like a half circle, the rounded wall was done floor to ceiling in windows revealing a breathtaking view of Jump City and its harbor from about seven stories off the ground. The straight wall had a door in its center leading to the hallway and stairs. On one side of this door was a small kitchen and dining area, on the other side were storage cabinets and shelves. The sofa had its back to the door, faced so that one could relax and comfortably gaze out over the water. Folding down from the ceiling was a massive flat screen as tall as a man, its expensive presence looming over the room.

The door in the wall slid open with a hiss and a dark navy robe drifted into the room. Buried deep in its gloomy folds a pale girl with pretty features was partially visible. She levitated to the couch and sat on the far end from the pig without acknowledgement. Drawing back her hood, she let the warm sun soak her skin as she pulled out her book and quietly began to read. The crashing of the waves and birdsong carried in with the sweet scents of spring provided a comfortable ambiance for the two in their quiet relaxation. It was not to last however as the door opened again and two more strange individuals entered. The first was a girl-more of a woman actually-with bright red hair and joyful green eyes. Like the other girl she seemed to be in defiance of gravity; her petite boots hovering a foot off the ground. Her clothes seemed to consist of a purple two-piece that left her belly freely exposed. She was followed by a mountain of a man, or perhaps more accurately a machine, his towering form consisted of olive-colored human features mixed with pale blue cybernetics. The red haired girl rushed around the couch and spread her arms wide.

"Greetings oh most wonderful friends, we were thinking we could team up to fight the boredoms together and go to the boat parade!"

Her ecstatic exclamation stood in contrast to the other girls' somber nature as she eyed her over the edge of her novel, irritated. The pig lifted its head, and its form suddenly shifted seeming to melt and change into a dog. An excited Labrador stood bolt upright at the prospect of something to do, just as green as before, with its tongue panting and its tail whapping against the couch cushion. It greeted the robot man who took him not so much as a pet, but as a friend, patting him on the back. The gothic girl returned her gaze to the pages of her book.

"I'll pass."

"Ah, c'mon Raven." The metal man prompted.

She ignored him, and the dog came over and nosed its head under her elbow, gazing at her with its big brown eyes.

"Ple-e-ase!" The red head, Starfire, begged.

She looked at the three of them for a moment before sighing and closing her book. Starfire's face split into an enormous grin and the dog, BeastBoy, gave a yelp of joy.

"Alright, let's go see if we can dig Robin out of his room." the man, Cyborg, announced.

Robin hated these long peaceful periods. While his teammates seemed to become bored and lazy, he was afflicted with unease and apprehension. They could never understand his inability to relax and enjoy a summer's day, and by now were used to him locking himself away in the dark of his room. However in the recent months it had been getting much worse, to the point where in warranted concern. So far only cyborg had noticed the team leaders' descent into isolation. Robin was alone in the center of his dark room; standing away from his desk, the glowing computer monitors the only light source in the room. His eyes were baggy and bloodshot, exhausted from constant stress. He wanted to rest, but his paranoia wouldn't let him. Dr Light had been out of prison for nearly six months now and knowing him he was planning his revenge this very minute. About two dozen other villains were on the loose as well so he had to be ready. Disaster could strike at any time. There was a gentle knock at his door and Robin was instantly angry.

"What?!" He said curtly.

The door slid open slightly letting a bright square of daylight spill into the room, illuminating him and hurting his squinting eyes. Starfire's pretty face peaked in, behind her he could see Cyborg and Raven, and loitering around her feet BeastBoy's canine features smiled at him.

"We are going to see the parading of the boats Robin!" Starfire exclaimed "Will you accompany us?"

"No." He said turning away.

"Don't be a grouch, a little sun and waves will be good for you." Cyborg said easily.

"NO!" He snapped a little more viciously than he'd meant too.

He saw them flinch in surprise, and there was quiet for a moment. Then, wordlessly, Robin's door slid shut and he was alone in the dark again.


	3. Chapter 3

The day of the boat parade was a Saturday. Summer was in full bloom, as the sky and the sea both blushed their most vivid hues of blue. The parks were filled to burst with thriving greenery and happy people out enjoying the weather. The suns heat sweltered down like an oppressive weight, and to the beaches the crowds flooded, swimming or eating ice cream to keep cool as they waited for the parade to start. But far away from the shoreline in the musk of a molding little apartment, buried in a disgusting mess of un-discarded take out boxes and dirty dishes sat Arthur Light. He was stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt with dark sweat stains descending from either armpit. Cursing the fact he had no air-conditioning, he tried his utmost to remain engrossed in his work.

It was harder than usual for him to remain on task. Despair had begun to grow deep inside him, and he couldn't quite place why. He wrote it off as his unfulfilled craving for vengeance paired with his present poverty. He mulled this explanation over in his mind, and became steadily surer of it. Yes, it made sense. He had been wronged after all. As soon as his work was done and he could put his plan into motion it would go away. He focused on his fury, concentrated it into rabid determination that fueled his fingers as he tinkered, sweated, and labored his life away. If he was lucky he could have his new suit ready for use tomorrow, he couldn't wait! In his mind he tried to imagine the Titans lying before him, scattered and broken. All the glory and fame the criminal underworld would shower onto him! He imagined himself as strong, victorious, and happy.

Yet in the back of his mind he couldn't quite make himself believe it. Beyond the delusions of grandeur, and ambitions of vengeance, the cold reality of his life was that he was a 42 year old grocery store clerk who lived in a crappy apartment and hadn't a single person in all the world to call a friend. He was tired and lonely, and incapable of admitting it. At this point in his life the Titans were all he had left. So he kept on into the night diligently ticking away the hours of his life, and when he heard the cheers and the fireworks as the city echoed with joy he clutched his tools with a tighter heart and scowled.

Mixing amongst the citizens of Jump city was always a conspicuous event. There really was no way to go around in public with a giant robot-man, a green changeling, and two levitating women, and not have a few heads turn. A little boy, about five or six, with a big gap in between his front teeth ran right up to the Raven and grabbed onto her cloak.

"Hai Raven!" He exclaimed with bright innocent eyes. Raven turned and stared at him dully, but the child was unperturbed. "You're my favorite!" His mother caught up to him now; prying his greasy little fingers off of the black velvet fabric. Picking him up, and casting them a tired look of apology as she hauled off the runaway. "Bye! Bye!" The kid waved over his mother's shoulder.

Raven smiled briefly, and they continued on their way. At a street vendor they each got an ice cream and sat at a picnic table near the water. They ate in silence as the boats slowly drifted by. It wasn't particularly exciting, but it was a Jump City tradition. After a while Starfire sighed.

"I wish Robin would have come" she said, staring at her melting ice cream cone.

"Why'd he have to be such a jerk? He's been worse than Raven lately!" Beastboy scoffed. Raven cast a dark glare at him from the depths of her hood.

"Something ain't right with him. I think he's letting himself get too stressed." Cyborg said with concern.

"How do you even get stressed doing this?" Beast boy asked "all you have to do is hang out until the bad guys attack, and then bam! Ha!" He mimed fighting motions in the air, and accidently dropped his ice cream in the dirt.

"You know Robin. He's obsessed with being prepared for anything." Cyborg replied.

"Wonder where he got that from." Raven observed, eyeing Beastboy with quiet disgust as he shifted into a dog and began eagerly licking the ice-cream from the ground.

"Robin will be okay, yes?" Starfire said, her large green eyes filled with worry.

"Of course," Cyborg said softly "we just gotta keep an eye on him, that's all."

They passed the rest of the day away, with idle chat and laughter until the heat of the afternoon gave way to the cool of the summer evening. A breeze flowed from the land out over the water, arousing tiny ripples along the surface. Out over the water, with the starry sky as a backdrop, the fireworks show began with a bang. One after another, bright colorful flowers of fire bloomed in the sky. Thousands of dark upturned faces watched, being faintly illuminated with every crack and bang. The finale came and the sky was on fire with light and noise, it was a moment you couldn't afford to miss.

Up in Titan's tower Robin stirred in his dreams, he had collapsed face first on his desk into an uncomfortable sleep. The last thunderous bang shocked him awake, and he sat bolt upright rubbing his burning tired eyes as the booming echo dissipated across the bay. With bleary eyes he glared at his computer screen, he felt resentful and wasn't sure why. Raggedly, he sighed, and set back to work. The click-clacking of drowsy fingers stumbling across his keyboard was his only companion in the dark silence of his room. A resentful unease wandered through the back of his mind, growing more persistent, it pressed itself into his consciousness. His friends didn't understand, he assured himself with a surge of frustration. They would rather spend their spare time care-free, and goofing off. Surely he was the responsible one in this situation, he assured himself, if they were unwilling then it was up to him the team leader to step up to the plate. He turned this idea over in his mind, growing steadily more stubbornly certain of it. It was a rational conclusion after all, he had a duty to perform and a city to protect. He focused more intensely on his determination, growing like a flame inside of him and scattering the fog of drowsiness threatening to overtake him.

Yet in the back of his mind doubt held out. Beyond his devotion to his work and chosen path in life, the reality was that he was a young man in the prime of his life, who instead of being out with friends had chosen to lock himself away in his bedroom. Though he denied it to himself and others, a part of himself had grown lonely, and longed to take part in the social pastimes his age group normally enjoyed. But he rejected these thoughts, casting them away from his mind. Instead, he sat hunched over his keyboard diligently ticking away the best years of his life. When the first rays of sunlight finally came pouring over the horizon, he was slumped over his desk, drowning deep in an uncomfortable sleep.


End file.
